Irony
by ShipperWriter
Summary: Tony and Ziva reflect on the irony in their dysfunctional romantic lives. Definite Tiva. Set post "Housekeeping". Spoilers if you haven't seen it!
1. Tony

I've been a Tiva shipper for a long time, but nothing motivated me quite as much as watching the end scene from this past week's episode. Ergo, my first fic, albeit a oneshot.

EDIT: This just became a "two-shot", one chapter with Tony's POV, and one chapter with Ziva's POV with extended couch scene. ;)

**Summary:** Tony sits at the bar, reflecting on the irony in his life.

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to CBS, Paramount, and anyone who is not me. Heh.

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><p>Tony sat numbly at the bar, nursing the Scotch he had ordered half an hour ago. His mind was still reeling from the conversation with Ziva as he had sat on the edge of her desk, holding his aviators against his pursed lips, watching the look of amazement on her tan face as she read the caller ID on the phone that had ruined a very intense moment between them.<p>

He hated that cell phone right now.

There was no reason for him to be mad at Ziva; after all, he was the one that told her that she should answer the phone call from CI-Ray. So he watched her tenderly, sadly, as she answered the call, holding up a halting finger to him when he began to walk towards the elevator.

She darted around the stairwell quickly. Tony walked to the elevator and pressed the button.

"Where's your partner?" the barkeeper asked from behind the bar, wiping a glass with a clean towel.

Tony smirked, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Not here," he answered quietly.

Even as he had walked over to Ziva's desk, all he could hear besides the blood rushing to his brain was the instinctive voice of Gibbs, the words "Rule number 12" repeating in his head. But he wasn't going to let this go anymore; they had danced around this issue for far too long. There had always been a sexual tension between them, from the second they met. And going undercover as hot and heavy married assassins probably hadn't helped.

Everything about their dysfunctional relationship was ironic. Even when Ziva pushed him to the ground and pointed a gun at his chest, he still loved her. Even when she was thought dead and everyone had given up, he risked his life to exact revenge for her.

And then they pulled the bag off her head. Again, ironic.

Something was always off for Tony. Ziva tried to open up, and he had to date Jeanne. He would open up, and Michael Rivkin appeared. For God's sake, he even interrupted her in the men's bathroom during what was probably the most exposed moment of her life, and ran out to solve the case. They shared a bed in Paris, the City of Love, and he didn't even try anything.

During this past year, it seemed they had both given up. Tony started sleeping with EJ. Ziva met Ray.

"I apologize. I did not think it would last that long," a soft accented voice next to him said.

Tony brought the glass to his lips but didn't drink. "How _is_ Ray?" he asked softly.

"He is returning to DC next week," Ziva replied as she sat to his right.

Tony chuckled wryly, setting the glass down on the countertop. "Well, that was awfully chivalrous of him to let you know."

Ziva sighed. "Tony…"

"I know, I know."

He really didn't. He couldn't understand why everything in his life seemed to be one movie cliché after another.

Tonight was the icing on the cake. Anthony DiNozzo, Jr, had put his heart on his sleeve, and for what? The most badly timed phone call of all time.

He picked up his scotch and threw back the last sip. "Tell you the truth, Ziva, I'm not really sure what I should say right now."

It was her turn to chuckle. "Tony DiNozzo, at a loss for words? I am truly shocked. Knocked my shoes off."

"Socks," he automatically corrected her.

"Hmm?"

"Socks. 'Knocked my socks off'."

"Oh."

Tony didn't want to keep drinking, but he didn't want to leave either. He wanted to be with Ziva.

Problem was, judging from the faraway look in Ziva's eyes, he wasn't sure if she wanted to be with _him._

"Maybe I should go," he offered, starting to leave cash in the bar in front of him.

Ziva's hand raced to his wrist. "No. Don't go."

Tony looked down at where her hand lay, radiating goosebumps up his arm. In a perfect world, they would look up at the same time, hazel and brown irises meeting, and time would only pass to everyone else.

That was when Tony decided he had watched too many romantic comedies.

He shrugged, mostly to himself. _One more wouldn't hurt_.

Unleashing his classic smile on her, he suggested, "I got an idea. You and me. Your place. Take out. And … Johnny Depp."

Ziva gaped at him. "Tony, you hate 'Pirates of the Caribbean'."

He exhaled through his teeth, whistling. "Hate is such a strong word. I just think you haven't been exposed to enough sophisticated movies to know the true meaning of a cinematic classic."

"And you're … offering to help me?" Ziva asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Something like that," Tony replied with his grin. Turning serious for a moment, he added, "That is, if you want to."

He was doing the chivalrous thing, giving her a way out. After all, she _was_ seeing one Agent Ray Cruz. Well, maybe _dating _was the better term. Despite how he felt about her, he wasn't going to disrespect her by throwing her current circumstances out the window - no matter how much he wanted to.

He saw Ziva bite her lip in contemplation, and he began to feel guilty for putting her in this position. After a moment, however, she tilted her head.

"Yes. I want to. After all," she replied, smiling at him, "we dysfunctional romantics need to stick together."

Later that night, sitting next to Ziva as she curled into his side, Tony remarked silently that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope.

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><p>Fin.<p> 


	2. Ziva

**Summary:** Ziva reflects after her conversation with Ray.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the review that motivated me to write this second chapter. I thought it might be good to know both sides of the story, right? Heh.

**Disclaimer:** NCIS belongs to CBS/Paramount. Not me. I know I fooled you there for a minute.

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><p>Ziva couldn't help but notice the disappointment that washed over Tony's face as her own reflected the astonishment she currently felt. Not only was Ray calling her - <em>finally<em> - but he interrupted an unexpected but welcome flirtatious moment between them.

She mentally berated herself for thinking that way, then just as quickly dismissed it.

Despite the long-suffering smile that Tony offered her as he told her to answer, she felt guilty as she answered.

Tony moved away from her desk, presumably towards the elevator. Without skipping a beat in their greetings, she held up a finger to him. But she knew, as she walked around the stairwell, that Tony wouldn't be there when she came back. She would meet him at the bar, she decided as she listened to Ray apologize for not calling, telling her that he would make it up to her when he came back the following week.

She made sure that her voice conveyed just the right amount of excitement. Yet when she hung up with him, she leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes and exhaling heavily.

Ziva was trying to remember the last time she had felt this conflicted. Tony was her partner; they were like two peas in a pad. _I believe I got that one wrong too_. Even with everything that had gone through, she cared for him a lot. They would do anything for the other, even when they didn't want to.

Just like how Tony told her she should answer the phone even though he looked like he wanted to kiss her.

Sighing once more, she made her way to her desk, grabbed her bag again, and headed to the bar.

The drive over was rather calm as she spent the trip thinking. Gibbs had once told her that he approved of Ray. And, ironically enough, when Ziva found out that Ray was the CIA liaison and he hadn't told her, Tony was the one who told her that she should forgive him.

And then, as soon as she hinted at being pissed off at Ray, Tony jumped up and started flirting.

It almost hurt to think. Nothing made any sense right now.

She started to think about the strict upbringing that she had, how often emotions were pushed aside, how dangerous they could be. There were times now, albeit short-lived, that she missed the rigidity of Mossad. She lived up to everyone's expectations when she was the "ninja" assassin, as Tony liked to call her. She did what she was told; she did not have to think sometimes. And yet, in spite of everything that she achieved, the one person whose approval meant so much to her was still holding back.

Was that why she was so eager to start a relationship with Ray, even when she did not really know him that well? Did she, Ziva David, a full grown woman, still have daddy issues?

Suddenly, she shook her mind clear as she almost ran a red light.

She pulled into the parking lot, spotted Tony's car and parked next to it.

He was easy to find; not only did she expertly know what his backside looked like, but he was also the only one sitting at the bar, whirling the glass in his hands.

Her earlier words resurfaced in her mind. _What should I say? Should I act like the conversation never happened? No, Tony is smarter than that. He would know that I am avoiding the issue. _

_I need a drink._

She sat quietly at the seat next to him. "I apologize. I did not think it would last that long."

Tony didn't look up at her. He brought the glass to his lips but didn't drink. "How _is_ Ray?" he asked softly.

"He is returning to DC next week," she announced with a hint of disappointment.

Tony chuckled wryly, setting the glass down on the countertop. "Well, that was awfully chivalrous of him to let you know."

Ziva sighed. "Tony…"

"I know, I know." He kept silent for a moment. Very unlike him. It worried her.

Finally, he picked up his scotch and threw back the last sip. "Tell you the truth, Ziva, I'm not really sure what I should say right now."

She chuckled, starting to break the tension a little. "Tony DiNozzo, at a loss for words? I am truly shocked. Knocked my shoes off."

"Socks," he quickly corrected her.

"Hmm?"

"Socks. 'Knocked my socks off'."

"Oh."

Neither of them seemed to want to continue talking, and it worried her. Normally, you could not shut him up. Maybe it was the right time to bring up the conversation. Or should she leave it alone?

She hated feeling so indecisive.

Tony reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Maybe I should go."

Ziva's hand raced to his wrist. "No. Don't go."

At that moment, she realized something. The way that Ray touched her didn't make her feel as tingly and warm and excited as when Tony did.

It still did not make any words come out of her mouth. They were back where they started.

Then Tony smiled. "I got an idea. You and me. Your place. Take out. And … Johnny Depp."

Ziva gaped at him. "Tony, you hate 'Pirates of the Caribbean'."

He exhaled through his teeth, whistling. "Hate is such a strong word. I just think you haven't been exposed to enough sophisticated movies to know the true meaning of a cinematic classic."

"And you're … offering to help me?" Ziva asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Something like that," Tony replied with his grin. Turning serious for a moment, he added, "That is, if you want to."

She bit her lip, then tilted her head. "Yes. I want to. After all," she replied, smiling at him, "we dysfunctional romantics need to stick together."

Half an hour later, Tony was sliding the DVD into the player at her apartment as she sat on the couch, sorting the Chinese takeout they had ordered on the way.

"All right, ya ready?" Tony asked as he kicked off his shoes, sitting on the sofa next to her, letting himself comfortably lean back into the thick cushion.

"Mmm."

The movie passed by without any interruption from the two of them. A few times, she would giggle and he would smirk. After a while, she began to suspect that his attention was no longer on Captain Jack, or Will Turner, or Elizabeth Swann, even. His hazel eyes were on her, a distinct feeling of satisfaction emanating from him.

She glanced sideways quickly, then cracked open her fortune cookie. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

"Huh? No," he answered cautiously.

She grinned. "Then why are you not watching the movie?"

"Because I'd prefer to watch you," he replied in a low voice, causing her to laugh.

"Stalkerish, not to mention cliché. I expected better material from you, Tony."

He chuckled, reaching for his cookie. "What does yours say?" he asked, turning down the volume on the television.

Holding the small piece of paper between her fingers, she read, "The most important things you seek in life are right in front of you. See them before they disappear."

Their eyes met, and a heavy silence settled on them. Slowly, Tony placed the plastic wrap on the coffee table next to her remnants and grunted.

She craned her neck to see his, and he pulled it out of sight.

"Come on, I read you mine, now read me yours," she whined.

"All right, all right. Confucius say … huh."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "Your fortune does not say 'huh'."

"No. 'The most important things you seek in life'," he read, turning his body slowly to face her, "'are right in front of you'." He looked up at her, his face strangely calm, despite the fact that they got identical fortunes. Granted, she did not put much creed in them, but this was ironic.

"'See them before they disappear'," Ziva finished, mocha eyes starting to feel a little moist.

Tony reached up, softly stroking her cheek. "Hey."

"I do not want to feel this way, Tony," she admitted quietly, leaning sideways into the cushion. "I do not want to choose between you."

"You don't have to," he confidently replied.

"What does that mean?"

He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair hurriedly. "Look, whatever happens with you and Ray … will happen. But me?" he told her as he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I've got your back. And I will _always_ have your back, no matter what. You, Ziva David, you will always be a part of my life." He smiled sincerely at her. "Promise."

Ziva smiled at one of the very few men who accepted her as she was, then leaned into his shoulder, watching the movie until she drifted off to sleep.

Fin.


End file.
